


Just Breathe

by rowofstars



Series: Once Upon a Ficlet [3]
Category: Once Upon a Time (TV)
Genre: Asthma, F/M, Ficlet, Light Angst, Medical issues
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-10-20
Updated: 2016-10-20
Packaged: 2018-08-23 10:37:16
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 971
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8324602
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/rowofstars/pseuds/rowofstars
Summary: For a Tumblr Anon who prompted: Rumbelle- “Look at me - just breathe, okay?” for the angsty fic prompt meme.





	

**Author's Note:**

> I don't know much about asthma attacks, so sorry for any inaccuracies. I based this incident on a similar one a coworker had where he had to leave to go to his daughter's school because she left her inhaler in the car and was having an attack. Hence why I safely assume this is possible.

“Look at me - just breathe, okay?” she said, guiding the young boy over to the chair beside her desk.

He stumbled a bit as he gasped for air, but managed to sit down with her assistance. She crouched in front of him and tried not to look like she was panicking. “Your dad will be her very soon, Neal.”

“Just breathe. In and out,” she said, smiling at Neal. She started breathing in and out deeply, almost exaggerated, coaxing him to do the same.

Neal nodded and breathed with her, in and out several times, slowly. His wheezing actually seemed to get a little better, much to Belle’s relief. She was petrified the poor boy was going to pass out before his father could get to the school. She brushed his floppy, curly hair back from his forehead, noticing that it was slightly damp. He was sweating and afraid, shaking at random intervals. She was so grateful she’d had to come back to the classroom for her purse before heading to lunch. As disoriented and panicky as Neal was, she shuddered to think what might have happened otherwise.

“There we go,” she said softly. “It’s going to be fine. You’re so brave.”

Neal was still clutching her hand and nodding at everything she said. She could tell he was feeling worn out from the ordeal, and she’d had no doubt he’d need to be dismissed for the day. He might even need to go to the hospital.

It wasn’t much longer before Neal’s father, Mr. Gold, arrived, striding into the classroom with his black wool overcoat fluttering around him like sorcerer’s robes, and the tap of his cane echoing on the tile floor.

“Neal,” he gasped, hurrying over to the boy. He bent over to look at his son, his face drawn with concern. He rummaged in his pocket with his free hand and pulled out an inhaler.

Neal took the tube gratefully and sprayed it into his mouth, inhaling as deeply as he could. Belle bit her lip and tried to stand out of the way, just behind her desk. After a few more gasping breaths, the constriction seemed to ease and Neal wasn’t sucking in air anymore.

Belle and Mr. Gold both exhaled at the same time, and then he looked over at her.

His face was soft and there was a hint of a smile that she’d never seen before. “Thank you, Miss French, very much.”

Belle smiled. “It was absolutely no trouble. I’m just glad you got here in time.” She let out a nervous laugh and ran a hand through her hair. “I was about to carry him to the hospital myself.”

Gold chuckled. “Well, thankfully it didn’t come to that.” Then he turned to his son. “We need to get you another inhaler to keep in your backpack all the time.”

Neal nodded and looked down at his shoes. “I’m sorry, Papa.”

Belle felt her chest constrict at his defeated tone.

“Oh, no no, son,” Gold said, wincing as he knelt down on the floor in front of his son. “It’s alright. As long as you’re okay, nothing’s wrong. You’re not in trouble, alright?”

Neal looked up and nodded, giving his father a watery smile.

Belle pressed her lips together, feeling like she was intruding on their moment.

Gold braced with his cane and pushed to his feet, then held his hand out for Neal to take as the boy hopped down off the chair.

“Thanks, Miss Belle,” Neal said.

Belle sniffled a bit. “Oh, Neal, you are so welcome. I’m just glad you’re okay.” The boy nodded and she glanced at Mr. Gold who was looking at her with very soft eyes and the corner of his mouth just slightly curved. “You go home and get some rest, and I’ll see you tomorrow, alright?”

Neal smiled. “Okay.”

“And don’t forget your reading homework,” she added with a tilt of her head and a sly smile.

Neal’s grin widened and he nodded once more. “Yes, ma’am.”

He started to pull his father towards the door, but Gold stopped and turned back to her. “Miss French,” he started. “I -”

She shook her head. “It’s no matter, Mr. Gold. Take care of your son.”

Gold gave her a small smile and a short nod before stepping out into the hall and following after his son. Belle sank into her chair and finally felt herself relax. She was terrified when she came back and found Neal bent over his desk, papers on the floor, gasping and unable to catch his breath. It was only her fourth day as the substitute in Miss Blanchard’s class. She had no idea Neal had asthma but recognized the signs well enough to know what was happening. When Neal didn’t have his inhaler, she went into a full on panic herself, but luckily the boy had a cell phone with his father’s number programmed in it.

She didn’t know what she’d expected of Mr. Gold, considering the stories she’d heard. But he seemed like nothing but a sweet, doting father. She wiped the tears that had gathered at the corners of her eyes, and stood up, glancing out the window before going to retrieve her purse. Outside on the sidewalk in the front of the school, was Mr. Gold walking next to Neal. They stopped by a large black Cadillac, Neal looked up at his dad and said something. Suddenly, Gold turned and looked at her. They were quite a distance apart but she could somehow feel his eyes on her, not in a creepy, disconcerting way, just - there. It was a strange awareness.

She gasped, and quickly looked away, picking up her purse so she could go get some lunch. For the rest of the afternoon, she kept glancing out the window.


End file.
